Of Magicka and Mischief
by Aurornis
Summary: An Altmer amongst Nords and Imperials. Straying from one corner of Skyrim to another trying to find a safe path to follow, but also trying to escape the skeins of destiny. How shall he swerve from the course set down and show that the bonds of the Elder scrolls are loose upon him?
1. Chapter 1: The beginning

I was on the cold ground somewhere near to Darkwater Crossing, I think. I could feel the sharp rocks and pebbles digging into my back. I could hear the roaring waterfall and feel the stiff blades of grass on my skin. All around me I could hear a fierce battle raging around me as the Imperial Legion sought to capture some Stormcloaks. My head hurt and when I moved a wave of nausea would wash over me, and I could feel myself wavering in and out of consciousness. I couldn't remember why I was in Darkwater crossing or why I was in the middle of a fierce melee between the Empire and the Stormcloaks, but through the haze of pain, I could see a spirit of some sort begin to materialise before me. it took the form of a woman and had the familiar bluish outline that only a ghost could hold. She walked slowly up to me, the battle around her seeming to freeze and she knelt down beside me, her hands resting on my chest. She leaned down to my ear and whispered

"You've been shackled for too long, little Mer.

Dismissed and ignored by the blessed Nine

Ground into the dust by the dread Daedra

Left to fulfill a prophecy made by old blind men

And tied into servitude under the Elder Scrolls,"

Then she paused

"But no more".

"Your world is beginning to change, and you shall begin to notice these changes very soon. You shall gain the power to remain independent throughout the events that rock Skyrim. You are an island stranded in the chaos created from your own people as they wage their misguided crusade. Skyrim is in turmoil, Skyrim is in danger but it is not your job to fix it little Mer."

She stood up and looked down at me. Her long hair seemed to blow in a non existent wind. Her features were that of a Nord, or a Breton and a kind smile graced her face as she looked at me

"Stay safe Aldimaro. Skyrim holds great challenges for you, but also moments of happiness. May you be wise enough to recognise them, and strong enough to keep them close".

She walked away a little while, and stared down at the dead of both sides and paused, then shook her head and carried on walk and began to sing

"Towards the end the dead do sing

And feast in halls of light,

What now lies in wait, and fate will bring,"

She began walking into the throng of soldiers, and her voice had lowered to such an extent that I almost missed the next few words out of her mouth,

"Alduin's demise in Sovngarde bright"

At the last word time started to flow again, and the battle resumed. The last thing I felt before darkness embraced me was a boot connecting with the side of my head knocking me senseless.


	2. Chapter 2: Helgen Part one

The first thing that I'm aware of is that my hands are tied, and I'm squashed between a few others in the back of a carriage that smells like sweat and blood. I must have been hit with a blow from a giant or the equivalent to because my vision is still a little bit bleary and I can't seem to translate the sounds being fired at me by a blonde Nord dressed in a Stormcloak uniform. Great. I slowly shake my head, and it's all I can do to not cringe at the sudden inescapable pounding of my headache. The Nord is still grunting at me, and I still can't seem to understand what he's saying. Instead, I look around at my fellow prisoners. Some nondescript Nord dressed in rags is beside me, and he seems to be panicking. I understand why when I see the fourth occupant of the carriage. Ulfric bloody Stormcloak sits bound and gagged glaring at anyone who looks at him. Perfect. I can envision my fate if I'm stuck with these men.

"Hey, Altmer, can you speak, or are you mute?" asked the blonde Nord

Well, look at that, my brain finally restarted.

"Yes Nord, yes I can speak. What in Oblivion happened to me, and why am I concussed enough to risk brain damage?" I replied, desperate to know how I managed to be stuck in their company. The concussion took away the majority of my memories for the day, all I can remember is having breakfast this morning, and then nothing, not a damn thing. Except for a brief feeling about a dream, I'd been having, but that faded fast after waking up. "I'm sorry to say, but you were caught up in an ambush the Imperials laid for us at Darkwater crossing. Just like this thief here" said the Nord The other man wasn't looking at us though, he still had his eyes on Ulfric "By the Nine, tell me that isn't who I think that is" he whips around to us "Please!"

"You have the honour of sharing your last few moments with the true high king of Skyrim, Ulfric Stormcloak," said the Nord proudly. The thief groaned. A thief, a usurper, a fanatic follower and an Altmer. Sounds like the beginnings of a terrible joke. We trundled into Helgen like the merry band of misfits and prisoners that we were and pulled to a stop at some sort of staging ground. I had to put up with a twitchy thief and the blonde Nord reminiscing about having a fling with a woman from Helgen and some mead he had drunk. Who knew Nord's could be connoisseurs of anything but violence and the alcoholic piss they think is ale. One by one we were pushed and pulled from the carts with various others, awaiting judgement and execution. Our names were called, and I found out that the thief's name was Lokir, and the blonde's name was Ralof. Lokir tried to run and was summarily turned into a Nordic arrow cushion, the coward. I was then drawn forward, and the Imperials were all seven shades of surprised to see an Altmer mixed in with the prisoners. Unfortunately, the captain wasn't too bothered that I was there, that I was not actually on the list, or that I was innocent, the blood hungry bitch, so I was added to the swiftly growing queue for the executioner's block. She probably saw it as a small way of getting back at the Aldmeri Dominion for holding the Imperials over a barrel with the White-Gold Concordat. Her aide promised me that my remains would be sent back to the Summerset Isle. Idiot. I had been born and raised in Cyrodiil, I hadn't even set eyes on the Isles in my life. Before I could rectify his mistake I was herded round to hear the priestess twitter on about our souls, and Arkay until one of the Nords pushed forward saying he would prefer to die rather than listen to more of the priestesses nonsense. Frankly, I couldn't fault him, I was of the same mind. After he tried to stand on the moral high ground with the Imperials saying that "his ancestors would be smiling down upon him" he was killed to a roaring cheer from the Helgen Imperial garrison and predictably, the desperate angry shouts from the Stormcloak contingent. Honestly, it looked a quick way to go, the executioner had plenty of power in his arms, great technique. He also seemed passionate about his job. "You! Altmer! You're next!" shouted the extremely bloodthirsty captain. I really hate Morndas.

* * *

It's funny how things happen that somehow escape your expectation. In the top three things that I didn't in my wildest dreams expect to happen today, number three would have to be getting caught with some Stormcloaks, getting knocked unconscious and thrown in the back of a carriage. Number two would probably be meeting Ulfric Stormcloak and almost getting executed after being preached at by a thrice-damned priestess of Arkay, but yet, at the very very top of the list, of all the things that I didn't expect to come of today, number one would most definitely be being saved from execution by the terrifyingly sudden and violent appearance of a dragon. I had just been about to get my head lopped off by the kind, qualified executioner when the flying, scaly, black as pitch, real as life DRAGON came swiftly down from the skies landing on one of the towers. It began shouting and roaring, bringing death, destruction, and flaming meteors in its wake. I had been rudely shunted to the ground as it landed on a tower next to me, and was isolated in a sea of dust, dirt and smoke, completely disoriented when the blonde mead connoisseur Ralof fetched me from the ground and pulled me into another one of the towers where Ulfric Stormcloak and his band of rebels had taken shelter. I was going so fast coming into the tower that I tripped into the back of Ralof, nearly bringing the both of us down on his injured compatriots splayed across the floor. After centring myself and taking a look at my surroundings, I settled my eyes on Ulfric and Ralof. "I suppose I should begin by thanking you for pulling me in here," I said Ralof shrugged "We're all prisoners of the Imperials, friend, it was the right thing to do. I could use some of that juniper mead right about now though". So he's an alcoholic as well. Typical Nord. He then turned to Ulfric "Jarl Ulfric, what in Talos's name was that thing? It's straight out of the legends!" Ulfric turned to him looking as grim as ever "Legends don't burn down villages" I butted in "Unfortunately, we seem to be dealing with one of those situations where the legends turn out to be based in fact. How I hate it when that happens." They chose to ignore my sarcasm. Their loss I'm sure. "Actually could someone untie my binds? My hands are starting to go painfully numb, and it's a hazard having them tied behind me. Did you see how I nearly fell coming in here? That could've been far worse if Ralof hadn't been there." I said, blatantly complaining, but I must have been persuasive because Ralof came over and cut my binds. Whilst I tried to ignore the painful throbbing of my circulation returning, Ralof took a look at the injured. One of them had been clipped by a flaming meteor. Speaking of which, I could still hear them hammering the roof of the tower. It's a wonder it didn't collapse under the force of them. With the pain abating from my hands, I sent a rush of restoration through my body, allowing the aches from the ambush and ensuring events to fade, and my headache to dissipate. I walked over to Ralof and knelt down next to him. Observing the injuries, I laid my hand down gently on the man's chest and allowed a stream of magicka to escape from my hands flooding the man's body and watched as the cut on his head steadily close up, and his laboured breathing ease. As the telltale signs of restoration magic, the cocoon of gold and vermillion light vanished I met Ralof's startled eyes and had to stop myself from smiling openly at his expression. "You're a mage!?" he exclaimed "I'm no Telvanni wizard, but I dabble. All Altmer hold some sort of magical ability, and I know enough to be competent." I shrugged "You helped me out, and while you brushed it off, I believe in repaying kindness." with that I stepped over to the other soldier and repeated the healing process. Once that was done, I decided that I'd outstayed my welcome in Helgen and that it was time to leave. "I'm leaving. The Imperials are too distracted by that dragon to be concerned about some prisoners. it's time to vacate. Open that door." Ulfric looked at me, then yanked open the door, which showed us that it was still meteoring and that the dragon was still present, showing he hadn't been driven off by the barrage of fireballs thrown from the Imperial mages. I sighed and shook my head. "Close it again. I suppose we'll have to find another route off of the top of the building" and with that, I led the way up the steps till I got to midway and I spotted the other soldier at the landing which was strewn with blocks of masonry. I was about to tell him to follow me when the wall blew in, and I dived back down the stairs narrowly avoiding the torrent of fire that billowed around the landing, incinerating the poor Stormcloak soldier, not even giving him enough time to scream. "By the gods, that thing's a monster" roared Ralof over the flames. The dragon quickly left the way he had come, coincidentally leaving us with a clear path to take. I looked back at the Stormcloaks "It has been some time since I've jumped from this height." I cast oakflesh on myself, hoping it would make a difference and under the widening gaze of the Stormcloak group, threw myself through the hole in the tower, landing in a poorly timed roll that left me with a twisted ankle and a plethora of grazes and scrapes. My breath caught at the stinging of the cuts, but with another small healing spell it was all healed up. I turned around to look at Ralof who seemed uncertain on whether or not he would follow my course of action. I didn't have time to watch him deliberate because the dragon had returned and was terrorising a small child and some men. The men had attempted to coerce the child into coming over to them and distract the dragon at the same time, but I could see the child wasn't going to move in time. I may be snobbish, sarcastic and annoying to be around, occasionally, but a child is a child, and with that in mind, I rushed out of the ruined cottage I landed in and quickly pulled the child to me using telekinesis but because of the power I put into it he shot at me with the speed of an arrow narrowly avoiding the explosion of fire that issued from the mouth of the dragon and knocking me to the ground. The dragon quickly launched itself back into the air and went back to terrorising the Imperial mages. I breathed a sigh of relief from the ground and let the child go, making sure that he was uninjured. I turned back to the cottage but could see no sign of Ralof, so I decided to carry on and try and find a way out of this nightmare, and hopefully retain the use of all my limbs at the same time. Hopefully.

* * *

I ran into that bloodthirsty captain's aide, met him when saving that very small child from the dragon. His name's Hadvar, he seems simple-minded, his accent annoys me, it sounds as though he's chewing on the words before he speaks them but he appears to be my only way out of here, so I have to take him, flaws and all. Damn these Nords. At least he doesn't go on and on about mead or women like Ralof. We both were making good progress through the continuously ruinous town of Helgen until Hadvar began to lead me down to the keep where we would presumably escape. It was there that I met back up with Ralof, who began shouting at Hadvar who started shouting back. They were like a pair of moon sugar-addled khajiit I swear. They seemed to have forgotten that they were still under threat of being killed by an angry dragon. It took me firing a fireball that exploded between them to catch their attention. "If you're done screaming at each other like hagravens, I'd suggest we get the oblivion out of here before we're turned into fried sweet rolls". They both looked at each other then at me then back at each other "The Altmer is right, we can continue this down at Riverrun, you Stormcloak bastard" said Hadvar as Ralof began to turn red with anger. "Great, now that that's done, let's make like a scamp and scamper out of here," I said as I began to run into the keep with two Nords shoving each other behind me whilst the dragon bellowed and rampaged, destroying more of Helgen and its people as it did.


	3. Chapter 3: Helgen, Part two

I've somehow found my way into the Imperial sleeping quarters with Ralof and Hadvar. If I didn't know any better I'd fear for my semi-intact virtue. Fortunately, I do know better but I am going to keep an eye on Hadvar regardless. Ralof has begun stalking up and down throwing open chests and pocketing any gold he can find, testing iron swords by swinging them, and trying to find one that's the most balanced.

I'm just trying to find some clothes that'll fit because I'm sick of wearing these prison rags. It's demeaning, I'm an innocent mer, not some common Khajiit kleptomaniac. Damnable Khajiit. One time I was staying at an inn down in Anvil, in Cyrodiil, and I had let my guard down like the fool I was because, well, I'd had a bit to drink and I was enjoying myself, when suddenly, I fell unconscious right after I'd ordered a bottle of wine that had been served to me by a Khajiit waiter. When I woke up I was in my room, and my head was pounding seemingly from a hangover but all my possessions had been stolen and my pockets were empty of the septims I had. They even took my new black boots, the degenerates. Coincidentally the Khajiit waiter from last night had quit his job rather abruptly. I knew though, I knew he had taken my things, and I swore that morning that I would fill him with fire and flay him with ice the next time I met him. Ever since then I've never trusted another Khajiit.

Eventually, in the sleeping quarters, I managed to find some light leather Imperial armour and some boots that were a size too big for me but I couldn't afford to be picky. Hadvar and Ralof looked impatient to move on. Ralof had managed to acquire a sword to accompany the axe he carried around like the barbarian he was. Hadvar kept things simple and just added a helmet to his ensemble. I pocketed a key that was on a table nearby feeling that it was important. We hurried on through a corridor that lead deeper into the keep, wanting to get out as fast as we could. We came to a circular room where there was an iron door across from us that looked to be locked. I strode across the room to examine the lock, then pulled the key out of my pocket, but before I could unlock it I heard a disbelieving voice behind me

"Ralof!? What in Talos's name are you doing in the company of an Imperial!?" said a Stormcloak soldier that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. There was a woman next to him too.

"Gunnir, I can explain" protested Ralof

"Are you...are you cheating on us Ralof!?" demanded the woman, also dressed in Stormcloak uniform. Hadvar had shuffled his way over to me

"Things just got a whole lot more entertaining" he murmured

"Sonya, it's not like that at all, it's not what it looks like!" exclaimed Ralof, starting to sweat lightly

"What in Auriel's name is happening right now" I whispered to Hadvar. He just shrugged at me and then, smiling eagerly, looked back to watch the Stormcloak trio.

"Ralof you swore you were loyal, you swore you wouldn't break your oaths to us again, yet here we are, back in the company of Imperials and traitors," said Sonya, looking on the edge of tears

"We trusted you Ralof, we gave you a second chance, but that must mean nothing to you," said Gunnir bitterly

"This is all a misunderstanding I promise. Hadvar is the only Imperial here, and he's no friend of mine. He's always been a milk drinking, backstabbing traitor, he's nothing, nothing compared to you" implored Ralof "Whatever it is you think is going on is false, I swear it. I would never risk your trust again"

"Things are becoming a little bit awkward, it's time to break this up," I said to Hadvar, who had looked indignant at Ralof's insults.

I went to step forward to interrupt the scene before me when who else would show up, but the bloodthirsty captain that had wanted my innocent Altmeri head. She rolled up to the locked iron door with two other Imperial soldiers before locking eyes with Hadvar, who had gone pale as he realised what it must look like "Captain I-" he started "Hadvar! By all that is blessed by the Nine, what are you doing with those Stormcloak sycophants and that filthy Altmer!?" growled the captain as she unlocked the door and stepped into the room, slamming it behind her in her anger

"Captain Millius, it's not what you think, I was bringing them in" blabbered Hadvar "They all escaped execution you see" "Oh, I see perfectly soldier. If they escaped then, well, they won't escape now" she turned to the two Imperials "Seize the terrorist scum. Since the executioner is absent I'll step in" she smiled at that showing her teeth, and I could see a gleam in her eyes. She wouldn't think twice about killing us.

The Stormcloak trio spun around at that and glared at the woman "Can't you see we're dealing with something at the moment?" demanded Gunnir "Go murder some puppies you bloodthirsty bint!" "I couldn't give a damn about your squabble you traitorous scum, take it up with Arkay," she said dismissively. She dismissed him AND she got his deity wrong. Two things you simply don't do with riled up and emotionally unstable Nords. Gunnir went red with rage and seemed to inflate with anger. He pulled his battle axe from the strap on his back and roared at her "It's not Arkay, it's Shor, you bitch" then he simply sprang forward with the axe above his head and brought it down on the captain's hastily raised shield which shattered a little on impact. They both started exchanging blows and Ralof and his Stormcloak friend engaged with the other Imperials whilst Hadvar just stood staring at the impromptu battle.

I sidled up to him. "What are the odds that Gunnir completely demolishes your barbaric captain?" I asked him He turned to me "She's not barbaric, she's just passionate about her job" he quietly defended. I couldn't help it, I snorted a little. Then he paused. "I'll give you five septims if Gunnir disarms her before he kills her," he said. I grinned at him "Deal. Gunnir is too enraged, he'll be trying to cut her in half, not disarm her".

We both turned to look at the fights before us. Ralof and Sonya had nearly finished with the Captain's escort. One of them was already down, and the second one was weathering blows from both Ralof and Sonya with his tower shield raised, but almost destroyed from the furious strikes being rained down on it. Splinters were flying through the air and as Ralof buried the head of his axe in the wood of the shield, he pulled back with all the strength he possessed and yanked the shield from the grasp of the defending Imperial, sending the soldier tumbling forwards off balance and open to the keen edge of Sonya's sword which cut easily through his armour and impaled the soldier, leaving him dying on the floor next to his already lifeless comrade. Sonya and Ralof stepped back breathing heavily then looked at each other and smiled. I rolled my eyes. I suppose that's what Nords consider a romantic moment, killing someone together.

Gunnir had backed the captain up to the iron door and she was wilting under the barrage of strikes landing on her. Her armour was dented in several places, the bracers on her wrists looked shattered as though she had tried to block some of the blows with them and there was a trickle of blood dripping on the floor. Gunnir landed a kick on her chest and she wheezed out a laugh as she fell, hand still grasping the sword at her side, shield in bits around her. "You may win this one Stormcloak, but General Tullius shall wipe you and your kind from the face of Skyrim." she spat out some blood and bared bloody teeth at Gunnir "You follow Ulfric Stormcloak blindly like dogs cowed by their master, too afraid to break rank, but eventually when all you love is broken at your feet and your home is aflame, then you will realise your mistake, when it's too late to change the outcome. The Empire is the sword and shield that defends Skyrim from the Aldmeri Dominion, you Stormcloaks are the rust that weakens the steel of the blade and dulls its edge"

There was silence at the end of the captain's speech as everyone absorbed her words than before any of us could have reacted Gunnir swiftly brought up his axe "Give my regards to Shor, you Imperial whore"  
And he brought his axe down and ended the captain's life in one fell blow.  
We all just stood there for a moment as we looked on at the bodies. The only sounds were Gunnir's shaky breaths and the sheathing of weapons as everyone sought to ride through the spikes of adrenaline that surged through their bodies. "You owe me five septims Hadvar, technically the goodly captain remained armed at her death" I drawled, pointing to the vice grip on the sword that the captain had on her sword even in death.

He turned to me open-mouthed before asking me "What's your name Mer, I've just realised I know everyone's name but yours"

I smiled at him "Shower my palm in five gold pieces, and I'll tell you my name, little man". He sighed and reached for the coin purse attached to his belt and began counting five septims from it. He then deposited it to my hand. "My name is Aldimaro," I said smoothly, pocketing the septims, "It was a pleasure taking your money. I think it's time to leave now. The dragon is still outside". As if to accentuate my point the dragon roared and dust showered from the ceiling. In two strides I was at the door and pulling it open. I turned around to everyone to see them just standing there "Well come on, no time to waste every minute counts, chop-chop". They all began to pass through the door and I closed it behind them and then locked it.  
"Hey, do you think the Captain had bard training? That was some speech" said Hadvar I shook my head at him "Oh I'm sure she did, and she probably played the lute as well, Hadvar" I said

* * *

Gunnir, Sonya and Ralof were a little bit ahead of myself and Hadvar, and they were whispering together, not paying attention to their surroundings at all which was detrimental as the roof suddenly caved in as the dragon landed heavily on some part of the keep above us and they just about managed to roll out of the way. When they jumped back up to their feet all three blonde Nords had dust in their hair and on their faces which had me laughing at their shocked expression.

"Shor's name that was close!" said Gunnir as he tried to spit the dust out of his mouth. He looked up at the roof and growled: "I'd like to introduce Brunhilde to the dragon's face!"

"I'm almost hesitant to ask, but you named your battle axe?" said Hadvar

"Of course I did," said Gunnir proudly as he brushed the dust off of himself "Brunhilde here, with my help, has guided many unfortunate souls to Sovngarde and has been with me through thick and thin. She's the constant in my life as the sun is in the sky or a mother's love for her child. How could I not name her?"

Hadvar groaned "Of course it's a her" Ralof snorted "Get over yourself Hadvar, it's the fourth era, gender is a social construct, a battle axe can be a he or she if it wishes"  
At this point I was still laughing my head off at these Nords I had somehow managed to get stuck with. We were rounding a corner when we spotted a mixed group of Stormcloak and Imperial soldiers. We all froze for a minute as each group looked at each other

"Ralof," said one of them "Lorn" replied Ralof

"Who knew he was so popular" I muttered.

"Good to see you," said Lorn "We've," at this point he waved his hand around indicating his group "decided to put aside our differences to get out of here, then go our separate ways"  
Ralof looked relieved "Oh thank Talos, we've done the same over here, we're going out through the caves though, it seems to be safer" Lorn nodded sagely "Probably wise Ralof, but we'll try this way regardless. Hopefully get passed the dragon safely and maybe see you on the other side?"  
Ralof clasped forearms with Lorn and cracked a smile "I'll buy the first round of ale at the tavern. Talos's blessing, Lorn" "You too, Ralof". he replied. As we all lined up and bypassed each other, greetings were quickly exchanged. I was at the end of the line, and when the last of the other group passed me I threw the key of the iron door at him.

"Good luck, Breton, you'll need it where you're going".  
"You two, Altmer, you're going down to the torture chamber now, and the head torturer is still alive and as crazy as they come" he shook his head "I'd rather chance the dragon then face that crazed lightning mad old man". And with that, he swept out the door, rushing to catch up with his group.

Turning around, I saw that Ralof, Hadvar and the other two had left me behind and I could hear faintly the sounds of battle further on. I ran down after them preparing my spells for battle as I went. I could only imagine what would face me when I went down.

As I reached the chamber I could see Sonya fighting what seemed to be the torturers assistant. Ralof was unconscious on the ground and Gunnir was clashing against a Frost atronach on the other side of the room, cleaving segments off of its crystalline torso. Hadvar was jumping around, dodging lightning bolts and flames from the torturer who was cackling "Dance for me monkey, dance! I love the way you move!" he spat, his hands alight with magicka I came down the steps at a run, lightning and frost clasped in my hands and I unleashed both towards the insane torturer who didn't have time to snap up a shield, and so was swept off his feet by my ice storm as the lightning set his nerves aflame and he fell into a seizure. Hadvar immediately stepped forward and speared the man's heart with his sword twisting his blade viciously then pulling it out as the blood spurted from the wound whilst the old man's heart failed.

I rushed over to Ralof's side and inspected him. I sent some restoration magic through him and then left him to go see if I could help Gunnir with the Frost atronach which hadn't been drawn back to Oblivion by the death of the torturer. Sonya, now finished fighting, and ultimately slaying, the torturer's assistant, limped over to Ralof as he began to wake up kneeling at his side. The Frost atronach wasn't taking a hint that I wanted him to make like a rainy day and fade away, so I waited for Gunnir to retreat a little before I layered the area around the atronach in fireballs which, admittedly, made the walls explode and collapse, but the important thing was that the frost atronach was destroyed, falling lifelessly to the floor and then subsequently it evaporated leaving me to my satisfaction at its defeat, and the debris caused from my destruction of the walls of the chamber.

Woops.

As I turned around to face the shocked expressions of Ralof, Sonya, Hadvar, and Gunnir I shrugged my shoulders, trying to hide that I was a little tired after all the fireballs I threw. "What can I say" I say, as I leaned against the remaining pillar in the room amid embers and charred wood "I'm easily annoyed on Morndas mornings" and with the backdrop of their startled laughter I allow my eyes to close, and relax for a few minutes, blissfully unaware of what awaited me further on within this Vaermina wrought nightmare.


End file.
